Scent of Silence
by Shining Zephyr
Summary: *StellaHoratio* She sits there and looks down at you, stopping the singing and leaning back on the couch. You follow suit, and she whispers a simple phrase. “You’ve lost yourself, haven’t you?”


**Uhm- yes. I heard about something called the 2009 CSI: NY Fan Fiction Awards. Not like any of my fics will honestly get awards this year. I don't know what the heck I have done to earn any of them. –sighs- Oh, well. Shameless promotion for this event and a warning that I won't be writing for a while. School is being evil to me- very evil. May 28****th****, guys. That's my final day. Until then, enjoy this little piece of second person point of view in the form of my all-time favorite crossover couple- StellaHoratio.**

**Composed to **Scent of Silence **from the **Kingdom Hearts Original Soundtrack Complete.

**I don't own CSI: NY or CSI: Miami! –is jabbed with toothpick- XP

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Scent of Silence

You need some alone time from everything that had happened. The pain, the shock, the sorrow, and the depression- yep, it was time to go and visit her in Manhattan for a little while. But when you call her up to tell her that you were going to visit her for a little while, she surprises you. In the distance, you can hear her asking for three days' time off from the lab. There is a "yes, but why?" heard in the background, followed by a suffice explanation as to why she needs to come to the Sunshine State.

Her boss accepts it with open arms, and only a couple hours later, she is standing on your doorstep, her bags dropped off at a companion's house that she had known for a little while. You invite her inside, and she notices something quite different about you. She can't place her finger on it, so she voices no judgment on the matter. You dip your head and allow her inside your home, not bothering to even make the place look presentable. Being at home for the past few days hasn't been your biggest concern. You've just been trying to keep your mind clear and unwavered.

Only when she steps in and shuts the door do you really begin to feel the cracking underneath you of your world. You step, and it feels as if you're treading on thin ice. She gives you an inquiring gaze, but you shake your head and lead her into the living room. "Drink?" you ask.

"Water, thanks," she replies, looking around and eying your pieces of art hanging around the mantle of your fireplace. You fill up a glass of filtered water and bring it to her, watching her stare at the beauty of the pieces. "These are all meant to depict life, beauty, and love," she observes, taking a look back at you and nodding a thanks for the glass. "Right?"

You smile a little bit, but that old spark in your face is slipping into nothingness. Gently, you sit on the couch and watch her study them with interest. Life, beauty, and love- what in the world do those words mean now? You thought you once knew, and now you sit here, laughing bitterly inside and allowing a dark cloud to swallow you into nothingness. Yet you put on a content face, your voice steady. "Seeing death every day sometimes makes a grown man wonder if he can ever find the magnificence of existence."

She looks at you, surprise weaving its way into her features. "Really? A grown man such as yourself?"

"Stella, death is nothing but life painted in black and white. Sometimes, you just have to go and find the color in it again," you reply gently, voice cracking.

You fall silent after this remark; she follows suit, sitting down in one of the chairs across from you and taking a drink of her beverage. There's no need for talking- you simply hold close the time that she is there with you. It's that beautiful connection you seem to have with this wondrous woman of Manhattan. You communicate through the hush that seems to resonate in the room. You rub your forehead and look perturbed, and she already has that gut instinct she's needed for something. No words escape your lips- she's over at your side in a heartbeat, giving you what comfort she can through a hug. She pulls you close to her, and you allow this, leaning in and accepting an embrace.

She closes her eyes and begins to sing something quietly in Greek. You aren't fluent in that tongue, but it's okay. The angel is murmuring comforting thoughts in your direction, and that much is clear. You can't help but take a shuddering breath for a moment, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Your hands go in her lap, your eyes closing and your soul finally disappearing into nothingness. She sings another note, long and mournful.

It nearly sounds like a cry in pain, but it's not that.

Death's gotten a bit too much of an influence over you now, and you can't help but wonder if the pictures are there for therapy or if they just make people think you're not a dark saint looking to exact your vengeance upon the world for your very sorrows. Softly and subtly, your hand clings to her body, unwilling to let go. You can't say anything to her- there's nothing to be said now.

Her voice has taken all your pain and helped make it her own. She doesn't know the problem. She has no idea what happened in your life. All she knows is that you're suffering and you need someone's help that's not his team's. She sits there and looks down at you, stopping the singing and leaning back on the couch. You follow suit, and she whispers a simple phrase. "You've lost yourself, haven't you?"

And that's all it takes. Your heart finally shatters, leaving nothing but a pile of glass in the empty space and nowhere for the tears to go but out. The sadness, fury, grief of months past and years of watching people die in your arms have finally taken you and destroyed you, no longer making you what you've always desired to be- strong.

You nod once.

She strokes your hair; tears sliding down her own face. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could help more."

In your lifetime, you've never felt more helpless. You've never been speechless. You've never had a mental breakdown in the silence of your own home.

Until now.

She sits there, holding you gently.

And that's all you need.

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**I think Horatio's been through a lot of crap in the past, and no one ever has him breaking down in a fan fiction- ever. As far as I can see anyway… and I think he might do it in front of Stella if he had the chance. But that's just a rabid crossover freak talking. ANYWAYS, there is no particular episode this was related to; I just wanted an emotional moment between two characters. **

**CSI: NY 2009 Fan Fic Awards nominations end on Friday, May 15****th****. Voting is from May 16****th**** – May 22****nd****. Results will be posted May 23****rd****. (Shameless promotion again)**

**PLEASE leave a review. It's rare when I write second person. I'm really hoping I did okay.**


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